


Familial Connection

by everlovingdeer



Series: Harry Potter Short Stories [160]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Awkward Flirting, F/M, Fluff, Magizoology (Harry Potter), Secret Crush, Shyness, Tutoring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:27:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22572487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everlovingdeer/pseuds/everlovingdeer
Summary: “What?” I eventually asked with a sigh, knowing I hadn’t gotten the answer wrong. “Lysander?”“Nothing,” he assured me, grabbing the parchment of questions. He looked over it with vague disinterest, looking like he was going to ask me another question. But then, he set the parchment aside and sat up properly. Abruptly, he asked, “What do you think of my brother?”
Relationships: Lorcan Scamander/ Reader, Lorcan Scamander/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Harry Potter Short Stories [160]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1461751
Kudos: 78





	1. Familial Connection

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted to other sites on 03/11/19

Five years in and I was still unable to write a half-decent essay. Perhaps, it was for the best that the final grade rested on O.W.L scores and not the coursework we completed throughout the course of the year. Of course, the exams _did_ have a large essay section. Groaning, I dropped my head into my hands.

“Chin up Wintesley,” my tutor’s voice said across the table.

“I’m going to _fail_ ,” I complained but lifting my head regardless. Looking over the table towards Lysander, I waited for him to say something but he only offered me a shrug. “Rowena, you can’t even tell me otherwise.”

“Calm down,” he insisted, rolling his eyes as he continued to read through my draft of the Transfiguration essay that I needed to hand in at the end of the week. The sixth-year had his quill poised over my essay, making small annotations as he went. Reaching the end, he finally set the quill aside before sliding the parchment back towards me. “Here, it’s really not as bad as you think.”

“So you say,” I murmured dubiously, looking over the parchment, “but there’s an awful lot of red ink marring this page.”

“Want me to be honest with you?” He hesitated and when I watched him insistently, he offered me a well-meaning smile. “Truthfully, you’re going to have to rework it quite a bit; you keep rambling about unnecessary things and deviating from the overarching question.”

“So, I keep waffling,” I surmised, taking the moment to actually read through the notes he’d made. “And here I was, thinking you were the nicer Scamander.”

“I am,” he assured me with an easy-going smile, a far too knowing smile. “Even if he is a Hufflepuff.”

“Hey, I don’t judge by house.” With an apologetic glance at my watch, I realised, “I’ve held you up longer than I’m supposed to.”

“It’s not a problem,” he assured me as I started to pack my things up. Lysander, rather than saying something else, was busy looking at someone from over my shoulder.

Curiously, I followed his eyes, wondering just what he was searching for. “Who are you looking for, Scamander? Did I keep you here too long?”

“No, no,” he assured me, beginning to pack his own bag. “My brothers supposed to meet me. But I’m not surprised he’s late.”

Just like that, I was glancing around, horrified that I was going to be around Lorcan bloody Scamander. I wouldn’t be able to speak a word to him and if he knew – Rowena, if he knew. “ _Lysander –”_

“Relax, I haven’t told him anything,” Lysander assured me with a smile. “If I did, I’d find myself having to deflect a ridiculous number of hexes.”

“Well, at least you know it.” 

“Hey,” both Lysander and I started at the sudden, the loud word followed by an arm wrapping itself around Lysander’s shoulder. Oh Rowena, I wanted to disappear. Lysander turned to his brother in surprise – clearly, my housemate hadn’t expected to see his brother so soon. I frowned at the apologetic look he sent me. “Just who are you bad mouthing me to this time?”

“Maybe if you turned up on time, I wouldn’t have to bad mouth you.” Lysander shrugged out of his brother’s arm. Holding my eyes, he gestured towards his brother, “Wintesley, you know Lorcan, don’t you?”

“Vaguely,” I admitted, playing cool. Lysander struggled to hide his smile behind a hand. I shot him a glare. Yes, I liked his brother and no, it wasn’t a crime. I wasn’t going out of my way to get to know him – rather, I was running away at every possible opportunity to get to know Lorcan. This was one situation I couldn’t run away from.

Whilst I knew Lysander through these tutoring sessions, I knew next to nothing about his brother. At first, I hadn’t even known they were twins at first – the two looked different. Apparently, Lorcan favoured his mother’s side with pale skin, light blond hair and blue eyes whilst his brother favoured his Scamander side; reddish-brown hair, skin that whilst still pale was warmer than Lysander and green eyes. Even when it came to their height, Lysander took pleasure in announcing that not only was he the older twin, but he was also half a head taller than his brother.

It was then, as I came to an end of my comparison of the brothers, that I realised Lorcan was looking at me. Really looking at me in a way I wasn’t sure many people had – not when I would rather disappear into the back of the crowd. Especially if _he_ was one of the crowd. It certainly worked when you were as non-confrontational as I was in a house of people that tended to delve into theoretical debates– the latest of which was the ethics of the statute of secrecy.

“Can I help you with something?” I asked finally, looking to Lysander for some help to navigate the situation. My fellow housemate just smiled a smile he tried to hide, reclining in his seat. _Can I help you with something_ – why was _that_ the first thing I said to him?

“Sorry.” His grin widened and then he was holding a hand out towards me, “Pleasure to meet you Wintesley, I’m Lorcan. The more handsome of the Scamander brothers.”

“I’m not sure I agree,” Lysander piped up, watching as I summoned the courage and took his brother’s hand and shook it.

Quickly, taking my hand back, I prepared to say goodbye to the two, needing to head to the common room so I could draft another version of my essay for Lysander to look over. Only, Scamander pulled a chair out from under the table, sitting next to his brother and propping his crossed hands on the desk. Silently I complained to myself, wondering why he was still here and just how long I’d be able to stay in his presence without beginning to make a fool of myself.

“Lys’s been tutoring you for months now, how in Helga’s name have we never met before?” 

* * *

When I had finished my second draft of the essay, I’d arranged for another tutoring session with Lysander. At first, we’d wanted to get it over and done with whilst in the common room but, with the lingering threat of yet another debate about whether muggle painters or wizarding painters were superior, we hurriedly out of the common room and to the library.

Together, we sat in our usual corner of the library – hidden within the rarely visited muggle pop culture section of the muggle studies area, we got to work. I was pleased to notice that this time, Lysander was making far fewer corrections to my essay. In fact, he was almost halfway through it and so far, he’d corrected one sentence and capitalised a name I’d missed. And, judging from the proud smile playing at the corner of his mouth, I was pretty pleased with myself.

“Lysander?” I asked curiously, making him look up briefly from my essay. “Are you supposed to be seeing your brother after this?”

“No. Why?”

“Because he’s walking this way and you always say he’s running late.” My mind whirred quickly and I added, “If you’re doing this to make a fool of me again then I’m not going to be impressed.”

“Wait? Lorcan?” Finally looking up from the essay, Lysander peered around the library in search of his brother before he followed my eyes as I watched his brother navigate his way through the muggle studies section and towards our table. He glanced back at me for a moment, smiling to himself before looking down at my essay again.

I continued to watch Lysander with a frown, wondering how much longer he was going to take to look over the essay. Although, as he started my conclusion, I didn’t think it would take longer. Especially considering how little amendments he was making to the essay. Lysander continued to work silently, even when his brother settled, without a single word, into the seat beside him.

“What are you doing here, Lor?” Lysander asked, finally finished and put his quill down. He slid the parchment towards me, giving me an encouraging smile, “If you don’t get at least and EE for that, then I’ll be willing to argue with the Professor for you. Rowena knows you wouldn’t be able to do it.”

“The compliment was enough,” I grumbled, picking up the parchment and starting to read through his few annotations.

Rather I tried, but when Lysander spoke, I eyed the two brothers over the top of my parchment, “I’m still waiting on that answer, Lor.”

“What?” the Hufflepuff deflected, reclining back in his seat. “I can’t come and visit my big brother?”

“Oh please,” Lysander scoffed, turning in his seat to look at his brother.

I watched the two brothers shared a look that spoke in a language only the pair of them would be able to understand. When Lysander went to cast a look to me, I hurriedly turned my attention back to the essay, not wanting to seem like I was prying. Or worse, that I was mooning at his brother. Only, I couldn’t focus for long. Not when one of the brothers proceeded to tap the desk in front of me to get my attention. Lowering the parchment, I looked between the pair and realised that it was Lorcan who still had his hand outstretched in a fist, prepared to knock again if he needed to. Realising he didn’t, he returned his arm back to his side and offered me a grin. Merlin, that shouldn’t have made my stomach flip in the way it did.

“Sorry for taking over your study session,” he said, sounding no parts apologetic. “How have you been, Wintesley?”

“Good,” I said vaguely, looking to Lysander when he coughed pointedly. I turned back to my parchment then, actually trying to read through what Lysander had written as constructive criticism.

“Are you always this quiet?” Lorcan asked and I could only shrug my shoulder.

The true answer was that it depended on who was asking; if I was around strangers then yes, I was quiet. But if I was with my friends, then no I wasn’t quiet. Around _him_ – yes, most definitely.

“You’re in the year below us, aren’t you?” he continued to ask, and realising that I wasn’t simply going to be allowed to read through the essay right now, I folded it in half and tucked it into my bag. At my nod, Lorcan released a long-suffering groan, “Helga, I understand completely. Fifth-year can be a bitch.”

I couldn’t help but smile at that, agreeing softly, “It can.”

Rowena, was it just me, or did he seem relieved that I’d responded positively? His shoulders had eased slightly as he considered me now, and I had to look away from him. And then the new round of questioning began and somehow, I was conscious that he was working his hardest to ease me out of my shell like it was important somehow that I was as comfortable around him as I was with his brother. Or maybe even more comfortable. We sat, talking softly between us and not even realising until partway through the conversation that Lysander was still there, that we’d been sitting there for perhaps too long.

* * *

In most situations, Lysander was the best tutor I could ask for; he was flexible to meet around my schedule, he had no problem with explaining things repeatedly as he often needed to and he was honest with his assessments of my work. But, occasionally – just occasionally – there were times when I didn’t like him. For one thing, he was _far_ too easily distracted. When he found something that was more interesting than Transfiguration, he was far too easily distracted. Like right now, he was supposed to be quizzing me on different Transfiguration spells. Only, he wasn’t. After asking me the spell that trapped your opponent in a bubble – _ebublio_ – he hadn’t asked me a question since. Rather, he had that annoyingly _Ravenclaw_ face about him where he knew something that no one else knew and he wasn’t willing to share it with me.

“What?” I eventually asked with a sigh, knowing I hadn’t gotten the answer wrong. “Lysander?”

“Nothing,” he assured me, grabbing the parchment of questions. He looked over it with vague disinterest, looking like he was going to ask me another question. But then, he set the parchment aside and sat up properly. Abruptly, he asked, “What do you think of my brother?”

“Your brother? You know my answer to that.” I frowned, not expecting the sudden turn in the conversation. I glanced pointedly towards the list of questions but he showed no inclination to quizzing me again. Rowena, maybe I should have taken my friend’s advice and switched tutors after Lysander had gone off into an enthused rant about the impropriety of the current system used to rank magical creatures. Still, he continued to watch me as he waited for an answer. I wasn’t certain that he’d allow this to continue if I didn’t answer him.

“Now that you’ve actually spent some time with him has your opinion on him changed? You just had a crush but you never got to know him.”

“Honestly?” I asked hesitantly, hoping he would back down. He didn’t. Instead, he held my eyes and waited with that damned half-smile playing around the corner of his mouth.

“Well?”

“I don’t think anything,” I confessed truthfully, with a hesitant smile. Lysander chuckled, shaking his head. I hurried to explain, “Lysander, I don’t mean to offend you or your brother but I haven’t really thought about anything. I mean, I guess I can actually talk to him without becoming a puddle of nerves but that’s about it.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not offended,” he assured me. Sitting up properly, Lysander shrugged his shoulders and reached for the parchment. This time, when he read the questions, he seemed more interested in it. Like he was actually going to quiz me. Only, this time, I was the one that wasn’t willing to let things go so easily. This time I was the one watching Lysander lingeringly, wanting to know what he was thinking.

“Lysander?” I started slowly, “Why did you ask me that?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said simply. When really, I _did_ want to worry about it. He couldn’t just say to me not expect me to think about it.

Eventually, Lysander shook his head and wondered with a smile, “I can’t wait to tell him what you said.”

“What I said?” I repeated incredulously, trying to catch my tutor’s eye as he pointedly refused to do so. “You _can’t_ tell him what I said.”

“Of course, I can.” He was the picture of innocence, “I asked you so I could tell him the answer.”

“Lysander,” I whined, trying and failing to get him to see sense. “You have to be the worst tutor on the face of the planet.”

He just shook his head with a teasing laugh. “If you want me to keep it to myself, you’re going to have to make it worth my while. But sorry, Wintesley, your pockets aren’t deep enough for that.”

With a long-suffering groan, I lowered my head into my hands; why was this happening to me? I tried my best to be a good person – I liked to think I was friendly and thoughtful. Sure, I was on the quiet side, but I never hurt anyone’s feelings and I never started arguments or did anything to get involved in an argument. So why was this happening to me?

Lysander, knowing how much he was infuriating me, just tapped his shoe against mine and ordered, “Chin up, we still have twenty-something questions left for you to answer.”

“And whose fault is that?” I peeked accusingly at him from between my fingers. “If you hadn’t started this tangent then we’d already be finished by now.”

“I’m offended.” He pressed a dramatic hand to his heart, “Here I was thinking you liked spending time with me. You’ve hurt my feelings so bad that I just might have to tell Lorcan what you said to feel better.”

“ _Lysander_.” 

* * *

Five years in, and I was fairly certain I’d perfected the ability to walk whilst I had my nose stuck in a book. Over time, I’d learned which hallways were overcrowded at which points of the day and so I knew which corridors to avoid. Especially now, that I was walking back to the common room, I knew that I’d have to take the lesser-known corridors and risk stumbling upon couples seeking some alone time rather than bumping into someone.

I was so into my book, the most current review of research on winged horses, that I didn’t want to put it down even for a minute. Winged horses were a subject of particular interest to me, with my family rearing them and especially with one horse – one I had helped to hand rear – preparing to give birth to her first calf, I was majorly interested. It was the first time I was actually aware of a mare preparing to give birth, maybe I was so interested because I had a particular interest in this mare. But before heading home for the holidays, I wanted to read up on everything there was to know about the mare giving birth because when she _did_ give birth, I wanted to be of help, not hindrance.

Although, I needed to improve the skills that I thought I’d pretty much perfected. Especially when I’d almost bumped into someone. Or maybe I didn’t – seeing as how I’d caught myself _just_ before bumping into someone, my book tumbling from my hands in shock. With wide eyes, I apologised instantly, voice trailing off when I found myself staring into Lorcan Scamander’s green eyes.

Lorcan, in his surprise, actually shouted only to cut himself off quickly, realising it was just me. Avoiding his eyes, I ducked down to pick up the book. Lorcan’s hands beat me to it.

I rose hesitantly, watching as he brushed the dust off of the book and held it out to me with an apologetic smile, “Sorry about that.”

“No, it was my fault,” I admitted, accepting the book. Waiting for a moment, I wondered if I could duck around him, but lost the moment to leave.

“Are you interested in winged horses?” He gestured to the book I clutched against my chest.

“My parents rear them.”

At my confession, his face grew animated in a way I’d never seen before. His eyes danced with excitement, with a smile far too large for such a simple topic took over his face. Perhaps everyone was right; it was in the Scamander blood to like magical creatures. Apparently, it went against their very DNA to not like magical creatures.

“Really?” he asked excitedly. At my nod, he spoke hurriedly, “My grandfather and parents let me see a lot of animals and I’ve probably seen more than most. But Helga, I’ve never seen a winged horse before.”

“They’re pretty much like regular horses,” I said lamely as I started to walk. Lorcan fell into step beside me. “Apart from, you know, their wings.”

“Are you allowed to ride them?” He shifted his bag, looking at me as he walked rather than at the crowd. “And how in Merlin’s name do you stop them from flying away?”

“We gain their trust,” I explained with a shrug. “If you’re around them whilst they’re born, they intrinsically trust you but older horses that haven’t been around wizards – you have to gain their trust to be able to fly with them and to make sure they don’t fly away.”

“You’re there when they give birth?” He didn’t sound disgusted like so many other people in his position would. Rather, he was enthralled, eager to soak up any and all information I had about the creatures.

“I haven’t actually seen a birth yet, but hopefully when I get home for the holiday, I’ll be there in time to help the birth.” Shrugging, we turned onto the corridor that led to the common room. I trailed off, realising that he was watching me strangely. Hesitantly, I studied him curiously from the corner of my eye and murmured, “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“It’s nothing,” he assured me. He claimed it was nothing and yet he was still watching me with a smile, soft and sweet, at the corner of his lips. “This is just the most I’ve heard you talk. It’s good to hear your voice.”

And somehow, despite all rationale, that did it. That was what clicked it in my head. I studied Lorcan closely, surprised at the way he was meeting my eyes, unabashed. But surely _not_ – surely, he didn’t as well

Maybe –

And suddenly, I struggled not to return that smile.

* * *

Naturally, the first thing I did was declare my suspicions to my best friend. I’d gotten into the common room, pulled Natalia aside and told her with hurried words that I thought – just thought – that Lorcan Scamander might have had a crush on me too. Although I wasn’t certain, it was just an inkling that I had. That was all. Of course, that was enough for Natalia who proceeded to use my suspicion to tease me almost every waking moment.

When we were in the Great Hall or with the off chance that Lorcan was anywhere nearby, she turned serious and used her spare moments to keep a lookout. If Lorcan so much as glanced at me, she was quick to tell me. If she happened to think she’d overheard him talking about me, she made sure to relay the information to me.

In a matter of days, I was so used to having Natalia tease me, that I suffered it all in silence. Even when I really shouldn’t have. The longer I kept my silence, the more outrageous her words became.

“Try it,” she insisted, nudging me with her shoulder as we walked.

“You’re insane.” Shaking my head, I avoided looking at her.

Natalia wasn’t willing to listen. “I don’t see why you can’t do it. You’re friends with Lysander – with his _brother_ and you can use him to help you lay some groundwork. It’s not as if you haven’t been besotted with Lorcan for ages now.”

“ _Stop_ ,” I hissed under my breath, swatting at her arm and conscious that anyone could hear her. The last thing I needed was for a nosey Gryffindor to overhear and to spread it all around the castle. Merlin, that would be too horrifying.

“Alright, alright,” she finally conceded, returning my grateful smile with a simple eye roll.

Together, we continued to walk and in moments later, I was infinitely grateful that Natalia had fallen silent when she had. Because there was a loud call of my name. One that had several heads turning, searching out for the Hufflepuff I _knew_ was walking towards me, having spied me over the heads of the crowd. By now, Natalia was so used to hearing Lorcan’s voice that she nudged me teasingly but calmed when I shot her a pleaded look. I had no idea what I’d if Natalia made him catch on.

Lorcan broke off from his friends; he might have been unaffected by their teasing, but _I_ certainly wasn’t. I fidgeted with my bag, watching as he weaved through the crowd and approached me. Natalia tried to nudge me again, but I beat her to it – pinching her at her side. She squealed, trying to keep it so quiet no one else heard as she glared at me. Well, it served her right. I turned my eyes back to Lorcan, smiling when he came to a still in front of me.

“Geoffreys,” he greeted Natalia before turning to me and addressing me by my first name.

“Lorcan,” I returned, waiting.

“Any news on the foal?” he asked like he’d taken the habit of doing.

Shaking my head sadly, I worried aloud, “My parents have started to check in on the mare every day for signs of labour, but there isn’t any. The strain might become too much for the mare and we might have to intercede for the sake of both mother and foal.”

Hearing the worry in my voice, Lorcan stepped forward then – closer than he ever had before. I eyed him warily, watching as he reached out a gentle hand and fingered the end of my braid. Lowering his head to meet my eyes, he held them and assured me softly, “Everything’ll be fine Wintesley. Don’t worry too much about it. It’s like my grandfather says – creatures and beasts have their own rhythm they need to follow. It might not be the same as anyone else’s, but it’s theirs. The mare will birth when it’s her time.”

“Rowena, I hope so,” I said softly, eyes shooting behind Lorcan to his friends who were growing increasingly loud in their jeering. And just like that, whatever had formed around us, has shattered.

Clearing his throat, Lorcan stepped away from me. He brought a hand, hesitantly to the back of his neck, rubbing it as he made an aborted step back. Only, he paused once more. Turning towards me, he gestured to his friend.

“I’d better go,” he said softly, seeming reluctant but leaving, nonetheless. I nodded slowly, watching as he headed away. 

* * *

After having handed in my Transfiguration essay, I spent the next week waiting anxiously for the day it would be returned. I hoped all my hard work had paid off and that I would get the EE that Lysander was convinced the essay deserved. Of course, he’d even hinted at that it might have been worth an O – I didn’t dare get my hopes up. Even now, as I sat in Transfiguration with an amused Natalia at my side, my eyes tracked the Professor as she walked around the classroom, returning everyone’s essays to them. Finally reaching our table, the Professor returned our essays and I didn’t even look at it. Rather, I folded it in half and tucked it into my textbook. Natalia rolled her eyes, murmuring under her breath about how I was a drama queen but that nobody would’ve pegged me for one because I never opened my mouth around others.

Silently nudging her with my hand, I packed up as the end of the lesson arrived. As we reached the classroom door, I promised Natalia that I’d meet her in the common room once I was done meeting with Lysander. She promised to save me some of the chocolate quills she’d bought last Hogsmeade weekend and was planning on bingeing whilst finishing the current book she was reading. Thanking her, I waited a moment longer, just until she’d started walking in the other direction and headed right for the library. When I reached the large room, unusually empty for the time of day, I headed right for our usual table and found Lysander already waiting for me.

“Sorry,” I apologised, glancing at my watch; I wasn’t late. “Did I make you wait?”

“I had a free period,” he explained, gesturing for me to take my seat. “I thought I’d get some work done before meeting you.”

“Oh right.” Sitting on the edge of the seat, I practically bounced anxiously in my seat.

Lysander took one look at me, before shaking his head with an amused smile, “Go on then, let’s see. Have you looked at it yet?”

“Not yet.” Pulling the essay out from between the pages of the textbook, I slid it across the table towards him.

Leaning forward, Lysander picked up the essay. He unfolded it slowly and I watched his face carefully, trying to get a reading from his face. Infuriatingly, his face was blank and, judging from the way his eyes flickered to me, it was done on purpose. When he was finished, Lysander held the essay out for me. I took it with a heavy heart, eyes flicking to the top right-hand corner of the parchment.

 _EE_.

“Oh, thank Merlin,” I murmured, turning the parchment around so I could read the comments the Professor had left behind.

“You did well, Wintesley,” Lysander assured me, finally smiling now that he was satisfied with my reaction.

“Thank you for helping me.” Smiling at Lysander from over the top of the parchment, I held his eyes for a moment longer before looking once more to the comments the Professor had made. I was focused on reading the long but helpful notes left for me that I didn’t look up when a chair at the table scraped against the floor as it was pulled from beneath the table.

“I take it you did well then?” Lorcan; _that_ made me look up.

Peering up from my essay, I realised I was now sitting across from both Scamander brothers, I looked between the pair of them. Although Lorcan wasn’t looking at me, he was instead looking to his brother for an answer to the question he’d asked me.

“She got an _EE_ ,” Lysander answered as he collated his textbooks into one pile. “Well, I think we should take today off to celebrate you doing so well. So, I’m going to see if I can catch our head of house before he leaves the office.”

“Lys – ”

Rising from his seat, Lysander patted his brother on the shoulder as he insisted, “I’m trusting you to have the manners to walk her back to the common room, Lor.”

“I was already going to,” Lorcan rolled his eyes, finally looking at me and holding my eyes. Still, I couldn’t hold his eyes and instead, I looked to Lysander who was already walking away and promising to arrange our next meeting later. Rowena, what was I going to do if Natalia’s words had somehow gotten to Lorcan’s ears? Apparently, there was a rumour originating from Hufflepuff house that he had the ears of a bat.

“Want me to walk you?” he asked, studying me with a tilted head.

“What?” I managed, realising I had a death grip on my essay. Forcing myself to relax, I smoothed out the essay and folded it neatly again.

“Unless you want to stay here for longer?”

“Oh – no, I should actually get going.”

When I stood up, I looked curiously at Lorcan who also stood up. He gestured for me to lead the way and I hesitated for a moment, wondering if he was really going to come with me. He did, dropping into step at my side as we headed to the common room. As we walked, he spoke passionately about everything he’d read up on about winged horses. At one point, he’d basically invited himself to our family ranch, to meet and care for some of the foals. I wasn’t sure why he was certain he’d get to meet them but he was so excited, that I didn’t want to pop his bubble. Instead, I asked him what he thought about the ethics of selectively breeding the horses to bring about desired traits. He answered my questions thoughtfully, citing research and pondering over the questions with such thoroughness, I wondered why he hadn’t been sorted into Ravenclaw as his brother had. I noticed, as we got closer to the common room, the slower we walked. And, if he noticed it as well, he hadn’t said anything about it.

But eventually, we stopped at the entrance to the Ravenclaw common room. Lorcan stood before me with a reluctant smile. “You should head in, Wintesley.”

I nodded, returning the smile with just as much hesitance and preparing to answer the riddle. But I caught myself, looking back at Lorcan. He arched a silent, curious eyebrow but still said nothing. For a moment, I felt my resolve fade – squaring my shoulders, I knew I had to do this. Merlin, if I didn’t do this, then my dormmates had threatened to handle the situation for me. Just the thought of them standing in the Great Hall and declaring it all for everyone to hear was too much to bear.

Abruptly, and before I could lose my bravery, I demanded, “When are you going to ask me out?”

The question, so out of character, took him by such surprise that he actually almost stumbled back. Flustered, Lorcan fisted his hands and hid them beneath the long sleeves of his robe and cleared his throat repeatedly. He was clearly trying to think of something and I prepared myself to face his rejection, to accept that I’d gotten ahead of myself. But then he asked slowly, “Do you want me to?”

If I had already gotten this far, it only made sense for me to be honest. So, I nodded, just once.

“Ok.” He cleared his throat again, seeming like he was going to ask me right that very moment. Only, he backtracked quickly, “Tomorrow. Once I’ve worked up the courage, I’ll speak to you tomorrow.”

Lorcan turned away hurriedly, walking away from me and leaving me standing in the corridor. He was so nervous, adorably so, that I couldn’t help but smile at his retreating back. Rowena, I couldn’t wait for tomorrow to come. 


	2. Epilogue: 6 Years Later

_6 YEARS LATER_

Perhaps, it was in my blood to have gone off to study magizoology after having finished Hogwarts, the way it was in Lorcan’s blood to do the same. Of course, I’d specialised in winged horses and he had gone on to study creature conservation. It seemed, I spent my every spare moment working on the family farm, making sure that all our winged horses were healthy and importantly, that they were happy. Somehow, despite having dated Lorcan for 6 years now, he had never once set foot on our family farm and had never seen a winged horse either. Maybe it was because I wasn’t too sure of letting Lorcan meet my parents – but that was a secret I kept to myself.

Although conceding to his pestering, I’d given in to his badgering and he was spending a couple of weeks of the summer holiday at our farm. I’d watched cautiously from the sidelines as my parents were _properly_ introduced to Lorcan, with me actually using the b-word to describe him. My anxiety was proven pointless, given the easy way he’d hit it off with my parents. At first, my parents had wanted to keep him like a guest, not wanting him to experience any trouble during his stay. Their wishes were promptly abandoned when, the very next morning, Lorcan was awake at the crack of dawn and helping me feed the horses. Despite it all, they were grateful for his help.

It seemed, that Lorcan was willing to help me with all my work, continuing to trail me around the farm. This morning, I needed to check on one of the expectant mares, who was sure to pop any day and Lorcan, so excited about the possibility of witnessing a birth, was quick to follow. On his first day, he’d listened to my instructions about remaining behind the fence so she could get a good look at him and learn to trust him. Eventually, now that we were days on, they had built up enough trust for Lorcan to be inside the fencing with the mare and to even stroke her large belly. He had such an easy way with animals that I was certain there was something in Scamander DNA that meant creatures took easier to them than to anyone else.

“What are the chances that she’ll give birth today?” Lorcan asked as we walked.

“I have no clue.” Abruptly, I caught myself short, realising she was lying down and even from a distance she seemed to be sweating; she was likely in labour. “I’ve changed my answer – she’s birthing soon. This mare, in particular, is known to give birth quickly.”

“How quickly?” Lorcan asked, quickening his paces as I raced towards the enclosure. The last time, the foal had gotten stuck and she’d needed help; we’d almost lost her in the end.

“An hour.” I hesitated on the outside of the enclosure, not wanting to interfere unless I didn’t have to. “Rowena, the last time she had a complicated birth.” My eyes flickered hesitantly back towards our home, “I think I need to get dad. By the time I run back, it might be too late?”

Lorcan considered me for a long moment, reaching out to grab my hand steadily. “Apparition?”

“No; the sound scares the horses.” Shaking my head, I looked contemplatively between Lorcan and our home.

“Go,” he said instantly, eyes rooted to the mare. I watched, wide-eyed as the first signs of the placenta appeared. Lorcan clambered the fence, perching on it and watching her closely. “There’s no time to wait, sweetheart. Why don’t you go get your dad and I’ll keep an eye on her? You know your way home better than I do.”

“Thank you,” I said, rising to my feet to press a quick kiss to his cheek. Lorcan lowered his head to make it easier on me before gesturing me away.

I set off in a dead run, wishing more than anything we could just apparate without setting the horses off. My lungs burned, thighs aching as I pushed myself to run farther and faster until I reached our family home. Pausing in the front door, I took some time to catch my breath before hurrying inside and calling out for father. Worried at the sound of my voice, he appeared from the kitchen, holding his mug of tea. Struggling to form coherent sentences, I managed to get my point across and then we were both running back to the enclosure. I ran ahead of my father, making it back before he did.

Holding onto the fence, I found Lorcan kneeling beside the mare and holding carefully onto the front legs of the foal. At my concerned eyes, he assured me, “It’s fine, the foal is a bit stuck but it’s alright, I can help.”

Nodding and unable to word my concern – because I was struggling to speak at the moment – but also because I was terrified, I watched as my father clambered over the fence to help Lorcan. Under their careful watch, the foal was born, healthy and safe. They finally stepped aside as the mare began to carefully clean the foal. I continued to watch the foal for a moment longer, checking that nothing was wrong when my father and Lorcan pitched over the fence to join me.

“You know,” I murmured, turning to Lorcan as father headed back to our home to clean up, “most people would baulk in that situation.”

“Well,” he started with a smile that I _swore_ was the best of any I’d ever seen from him, “most people aren’t Scamanders.”

And then he was leaning down to kiss me. But I dodged away, holding my hands out in front of me to prevent from him coming anywhere near me.

“No way.” I ignored the frown he threw my way. “As much as I love you, I am not going to kiss you whilst you’re covered in horse placenta. No way.”


End file.
